A Germans Guide to Romance
by tearsofbreakingglass
Summary: GerIta with mentions of USUK, Franada, and PruHun Complete character list: Germany, Italy, France, America, England, Prussia, Austria, slight Romano After the events of the Buon San Valentino strip, Germany's still very much confused over his feelings for Italy. Luckily, Prussia knows the best nations around to help him!


Germany sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was wondering why he bothered talking about this at all with Austria and Prussia. Ever since he had stopped talking, the two of them had been giving him very amused looks.

Roderich rose up, the expression on his face clearly showed that he was holding back laughter. "I can't believe how dense you are. Your bruder must be rubbing off on you." He began putting his coat on. The Austrian couldn't hold back a snort from escaping. "If you honestly don't know what Italy means by all this still, there is no hope for you." With a flip of his hand, the be speckled nation left their home.

"Does he not remember that's been free loading off us since the eighties?" Ludwig muttered before sighing. He wasn't sure if he was happy or sad that Roderich had left. His brother couldn't be of much help, though the younger nation believed the other to be some sort of womanizing, sex god. That had to count for something more than for the usual familial idolization, right?

Prussia snickered. "You're such a dummkopf, West. Seriously, I saw that book you were reading. You don't read relationship books - those are for divorced chicks! Especially cause Hungary had some of those before I got back in her pants, suck it prissy boy!" He started in with his cackle.

The German sighed once more. "That has nothing to do with anything you arschloch. You're supposed to be helping me with mein problems, not talking about who you've screwed!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. Couldn't he just lighten up for once? If Gilbert wanted to go on a tangent while giving his brother romance advice, so be it! "Ja, ja. Just get the stick out of your ass. Obviously, I can't help you with the closeted gay problems you're having. Me and mein aggressive heterosexuality don't do that. I can get you to the gayest guys I know though."

"I never said anything about needing to come out of the closet!"

It didn't matter what Germany may or may not have said. Prussia made his mind up, deciding that this is what his brother truly needed. So he called up all his best friends and figured out the specifics of the meeting place.

France was standing by the curb, ready to greet the brothers as they got out of the car. "Mon ami! And his lil bastard brother too! Ah, so good to see both of you!"

Ludwig's mood went from his usual level of annoyance to extremely aggravated in less than a second. "I'm not taking any advice from the cheese eater."

Gilbert just shoved his brother into the Frenchman's home. "Nein! You're gonna listen to him because I'm tired of you moping around the house! Only I can do that."

Francis closed the door behind him and sat down on the love seat, his glass of red wine returning to his hand immediately. "Moping? Non, that's no good! Oh already he reminds moi of you throughout that little union of the past and Spain before we got Romano to calm down." He put his hand to his chest dramatically. "Almost as bad as these two. Non. _Worse_ than those two."

These two referred to a very confused looking America and Britain, who were sitting next to each other on the sofa. "Why the hell would we be helping Ludwig? I thought he hated the three of us."

Alfred laughed and kicked his feet up on the table. "Speak for yourself, dude. Germany and the Germans love me. Right bro?"

"Nein. Not since you were spying on Frau Merkel." The German in question crossed his arms, looking more agitated by the second.

Prussia raised a hand to cut the two off from bickering. "Fight later. You're all here today cause you're pretty gay and almost as awesome as I am. So almost-awesome that you're giving mein bruder love advice, and by that I mean totally how to bone the Italian." He shrugged.

Arthur and Alfred jumped up. Both were arguing against the Prussian's accusations. They weren't gay! They were completely straight! How was it not obvious?

France sighed. "Aside from trying to get Marilyn Monroe and being married to the original Queen Elizabeth, have either of you been with a woman? Or ever been interested in one?"

The two grew quiet immediately. After five minutes, America was the first to speak. "I totally would've gotten Marilyn if it wasn't for Joe DiMaggio...and JFK...and Marlon Brando...and the whole Kennedy family at least once."

Meanwhile, the Briton besides him was glaring at France. "So? What does that have to do with anything, you Frog?

Francis and Gilbert shared a look before shaking their head. "Angleterre, all I'm saying is, the two of you are together and engaged to be engaged - what a horrible phrase, non? - while also having only been with one female historical figure each."

Prussia smirked. "I'd also like to remind the limey that he dated my boy Francis for a few decades too. Then went back to trying to destroy everything good about him, but there was a lil love in there." After patting his brother on the back, he turned on his heel and exited. "Later losers!"

France patted the seat besides him. He tried to smile in a way that wasn't forced and appeared friendly, but it just turned out looking rather creepy and sent a red flag to the Germanic nation. "Have a seat."

As soon as the words came out, Ludwig was on the floor. He sat with his legs crossed under him like a kindergartner. "Danke, but nein. The floor is just as comfortable." _And less likely to feel me up_ , he thought to himself.

The quartet sat in uncomfortable silence for awhile. Germany didn't know what to make of the other three. He wasn't close to any of them and didn't really feel comfortable pouring his heart out. He just wanted to go home.

It was the American who would be the one break the silence. And, in typical fashion, he'd just speak the first thing that came to mind. "Seriously dude. Why the fuck would you wanna get in Italy's pants? Wouldn't you, like, break him?"

This cracked Francis up. He could barely stay in his seat, almost spilling the contents of his glass all of over himself. This was one of the best things he'd heard all week. "Amèrique," He sighed once he gained the ability to talk again. "You can't just go around asking people if they'd break their boyfriends. Otherwise you'd have to ask me that about dear Mathieu."

There was a deadly silence. Alfred narrowed his eyes at his 'friend.' "I'm kicking your ass. I don't know when, I don't know how. But it's gonna happen."

Germany cleared his throat before this could escalate any farther. Though it did make him feel better to know that the two of them acted like this outside of meetings. It no longer seemed like a front to annoy him and the other more serious nations. "I honestly don't know why I'm trying to do this. This stupid relationship book told me to and I didn't know how to react. It was red roses! Red roses, he didn't understand, but I understood..." He continued muttering to himself.

All three of them shared looks. It was the silent consensus that the nation - formerly? They'd need a bigger vote - known as Germany had finally snapped. If it wasn't so pathetic it would've been hysterical. Arthur got up and went towards Ludwig. He knelt down in front of him. "Get a grip man. Red roses aren't as big as a deal as you're making them." The British man scoffed. "My God, who even stoops so low as to read _self-help novels?_ " He turned to Francis and shrugged. "He's beyond help."

Francis quickly rose. "Non! It is never too late to save a poor soul such as himself. Allemagne, do not listen to that cynical bastard. I speak the language of love!" He twirled around and somehow made rose petals rain throughout the room. "You will get the boy whether it kills me!"

"Dear Lord, please let it kill him." Arthur looked up at the ceiling and prayed, arms extended. France kicked him in the back and scowled. "Filthy limey," He muttered under his breath as he picked Germany up.

Germany, for his part, looked utterly horrified at having the Frenchmen become his love guide. He'd much rather have Ivan show him the easiest way of making friends than this. Now to make matters worse, Alfred was jumping around exciting. "Dude, we're gonna hook you up! You got the love dude, the total fucking hero, and...well Arthur's pretty good in the sack so that counts for something!"

Arthur rubbed his temples. "Oi. Please can we just get this over with? I want to forget this day ever happened to me."

The German snorted. "Da, you can say that again." He crashed down on the now deserted couch, running his hands through his hair.

America beamed. An idea had just came to him. "Yo! You should totally do what I did!" Once he saw that everyone's attention was turned onto him, he continued. "Just wait to Italy gets himself in a war, gets his ass kicked a bit, and save his fucking ass cause you're the hero! Fuck yeah U.S.A!"

The three Europeans glared at him. Of course though, he didn't pick up on it. "What? That's how me and Artie got together, ri-"

"Fuck off, you twat. I didn't need your help." Just for good measure, he flicked the now obviously confused nation off. Britain turned to Germany. "Ignore him. The only thing he's good at is wars. And even then, he usually winds up getting more of the world to hate him because of it."

Alfred did a double take. "Well no one likes you either! Who's usually fighting right besides me?"

Britain closed his eyes. "Canada." Opening them, he smirked at Germany. "Just ask him out on a date. That's what everyone in the world as done. You could ask every couple, whether the relationship is good or shit, how they got together and a date comes up at least once in their story. I'll literally bet the entire Royal family on it."

Ludwig groaned. He buried his head in his hands. "I already did that. I wound up giving him flowers and proposing. He was crying, our waiter was about ready to get institutionalized, and I froze up." He looked up, looking ridiculously weary. This was a battle that couldn't be won. He just wanted to surrender. "I refuse to go through such hell again."

France chuckled. "Oh you Germans are so emotionally challenged." He flipped his hair and smiled. "You don't propose on the fifth date! You propose on the twentieth! Everyone knows that! No wonder your Italian lover had meltdown." He laughed, a bit louder than what the situation called for. "You're still very much at square une. You must first let your feelings be known. Ridiculous to pursue anything unwanted."

Britain laughed without any humor. "Than why did you try to force me into a marriage?"

America turned at Francis, ready to lunged. "What the hell? When was this you good for nothing, cheese loving ass!"

Francis brushed him off. "It was just because the Euro and my economy was sucking, calm down."

Germany sighed and stood once more. "You better hope this works. Or I swear, I'll..." He shook his head. "I'll probably just give up. Ja, that's exactly what I'll do."

Without another word, he walked out of the home and began his journey to Italy. Maybe this time, he'd finally find out what his friend-lover-companion-thing truly meant. And maybe he might just walk away happier. Ever the pessimist, the German doubted it completely.

Italy sat outside his home, lazing in the warm sun. He had just woken up from his second siesta of the day. The peculiar cat that always seemed to find its way too him was now lying on his chest. "Bonjourno lil fella! So good to see you!" He smiled while petting the brown tabby behind the ears.

Germany stood a few feet back, practically shaking. He could do this. He'd been through worse things, he'd seen things unimaginable. Confessing his feelings wasn't that hard. No it was actually somehow worse. He shook the negative thought out of his head. It was now or never.

"Italien!" He bellowed. "We need to talk right now!" Feliciano jumped up and the cat went running into the house. "Schieße," The German muttered under his breath. Not even five minutes in and he'd already managed to fuck it up. Might as well turn back...

"Ve, Germany! I haven't seen you in forever!" The peculiar nation was grinning. "Sit down, have a tomato! Big brother just brought them home from Spain's!"

Hesitantly, Ludwig did as told. He even took a tomato, despite Romano glaring at him through the blinds. The older Italian mouthed curses at him. That eased Germany up and even got him to smile. If Lovino was being his usual irritable self, things couldn't be so bad here.

"Say, Italy. Do you think France's opinions are...credible?" He leaned back on one hand. This answer would depend on whether he went through the plan or not.

"Si! Big Brother France is so wise! And nice to! He's always bringing me wine and food. Last time I saw him, he was even giving me advice on you!"

He swallowed hard on his bite of tomato. "U-und? I hope it was all good things. We're supposed to all be allies now."

"Ve, it was real nice! He called you some weird thing in French and said I just had to deal with you have the emotional range of an emotionally constipated old man. Whatever that meant." Veneziano just laughed. "He's such a weird guy."

Germany couldn't help laughing at that description. "Ja, weird doesn't begin to cover it. I actually saw him today. Along with America and England an-"

"How were they? I haven't seen America since the last meeting and he seemed really stressed. Something about Republicans and the Midd-"

"Dumkopf you're not supposed to interrupt!" The Italian began panic-crying. Germany freaked out a little. Was he really that harsh? "I-I'm sorry. I just wasn't finished yet. As I was saying, I bumped into those three arschlöcher and you came up with a bunch of other things."

"Really? You were talking about me? Aw, Germany! I didn't think you did that kinda thing!" His smile turned into a grin. Ludwig felt a blush beginning to spread across his face.

"Ja, well. I do...somewhat...really...like you?" That was a pathetic confession. If he was getting to this point he might as well just spill it out. "That was actually why were talking because ever since that tomato ring-flowers incident where I don't think I'd ever wanted to suddenly drop dead more, I've been thinking about you and red roses and everything."

"Roses mean that much to you? Ve! I'll have to start buying you more than!"

"Danke, but nein. It's good for just Valentines. Which happens to be the holiday of love! Wow, what a coincidence!"

Italy cocked his head to the side. Germany wasn't scaring him. But he was definitely confusing him beyond the usual amount. "Ludwig, I feel like you're not telling me something. What's bothering you?"

The use of his human name threw him off. It was something he preferred the other nations didn't use often. Hearing Italy say it made him know that the other was seriously interested in this. For God's sake, his eyes were even open for once!

The Germanic nation looked down at the ground. "Ich liebe dich." The words came out rushed and jumbled, not even sounding like words. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ich liebe dich, Feliciano. I know for you that might not mean anything, but Gott I don't go around saying it much. I barely even say it to my own bruder - which is a problem for a different day. I mean this. And not in the way you go around saying it to everyone and anyone." He looked up at the other nation who looked completely shell shocked. He sighed. "I should go. Auf Wiedersehen."

Germany stood up and dusted the grass off from his legs. He turned with every intention in his mind to never speak to another Italian or come back to this home. Prussia could deal with this part of Europe for all he cared. After walking ten feet, he heard someone running after him, calling out his name. Ludwig stopped, completely frozen in disbelief.

Small arms quickly went around his waist and squeezed him as tight as he could. "Germany! Germany, don't leave yet! You didn't even give me the chance to respond! I love you too! Ti amo! Ti amo anch'io! Just please don't leave!" Germany felt some tears soak into his shirt. He turned around and looked at Italy, his features softening in compassion, concern, and a strange sense of happiness.

"Why're you crying? I tried not to yell as much this time. And there wasn't any screaming waitstaff. At least I don't think."

Feliciano sniffled and smiled. "No, no. It's just my first love, he did what you were about to do. He left after saying he loved me and I never saw him again. And it scared me because you two look alike and...and I didn't want to sit back this time and watch you go." He looked up, into his loves eyes. "I don't want to lose you now."

Germany smiled. He was on cloud nine despite this revelation. "Feli, I promise, I will always be here for you. I will not disappear. Whoever it was who left you like that is a coward. I don't know much about this sort of stuff and I don't know how to do any of it-" This got him a laugh and a feeling of encouragement. "-but I know I will never have you go through that again."

In response, Feliciano wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck. He pulled the taller nation down to his height and kissed him. Germany's body, tense and frigid at first, quickly warmed up and began learning how this sort of thing worked.

Meanwhile, on a bench a few feet away, England and America handed over the equivalent of twenty euros each to France. "You see those two? Just how you two started out. And look! I was involved in both. Ah, go France!"

Germany quickly pulled away and glared at those three. "You've got ten seconds to get your sorry selves all the way across the Atlantic!"

"Party at my place, dudes!" Alfred said as the three immediately ran off. Germany smiled down at the man in his arms. "Does dinner out sound good tonight?"

Italy grinned. "Si, it sounds perfect."

Germany finally got back what made him a happier man for those three weeks. His Italian who made up for whatever Ludwig lacked in. He was whole.


End file.
